


My Heart is a Saber

by peskyjellyfish



Category: The Untamed: Fatal Journey, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Grief/Mourning, Lan Xichen needs a hug, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén in Seclusion, M/M, Nie Huaisang Needs a Hug, Post-Canon, Restrain Your Grief is Not a Longterm Solution, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peskyjellyfish/pseuds/peskyjellyfish
Summary: Lan Xichen sighs. “Such venom in your heart, Huaisang.”“It has a saber’s edge,” Huaisang agrees because he too can wax poetic.***Huaisang is on his way to Xinglu Ridge when he gets sidetracked.
Relationships: Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén & Niè Huáisāng, background Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn - Relationship
Comments: 86
Kudos: 316





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone :) I watched The Untamed/CQL on both Viki and Netflix so I'm sorry if I get my names and titles mixed up. I hope you enjoy :)

Huaisang unexpectedly meets Wei Wuxian in a small city near Xinglu Ridge. 

The moment is awkward. Wei Wuxian, alone and pulling at a very reluctant donkey, is clearly surprised to see him, and Huaisang, alone and dressed in understated robes without adornment, is obviously trying to move about in anonymity.

 _Only two people in the whole world who might guess where I’m headed_ , Huaisang thinks, _and I have the bad fortune to run into one of them_.

Sixteen years have sharpened Huaisang’s ability to read people (not that his old friend has ever been all _that_ difficult to read), and he sees the wariness in Wei Wuxian’s eyes. It should hurt and Huaisang thinks that maybe somewhere, buried deep in his heart perhaps, it does, but he also knows that this mistrust hasn’t exactly been unearned. A man who would murder a soul for his own gain is not someone to be trusted, after all.

He is about to give his excuses, wish good travels and continue on his way when Wei Wuxian flashes one of his brilliant smiles and invites Huaisang to share a drink

Huaisang is surprised, and honestly a little bit suspicious, but he can’t deny that he has wanted the chance to talk with Wei Wuxian now that … well, now that they both have the freedom to. It won’t be like before, of course, but Huaisang is not so lost in the before that he expects it to be. He has missed Wei Wuxian, missed talking with someone who wants nothing from him, who expects nothing of him, and at the very least, it will be a good way to tie up loose ends. 

It is not like before. They sit across from each other in a modest wine house and the tension between them is palatable despite Wei Wuxian’s casual slouch and Huaisang’s fake cheer. Huaisang’s hand itches to reach for his fan, but they are supposed to be beyond such masks now, just two old friends finding the time to share a drink together. Thankfully, the alcohol soon helps as one drink becomes three becomes five; Huaisang feels himself begin to relax and Wei Wuxian’s words become more carefree. They talk about inane things - night hunts, old news from Lanling and Lotus Pier, and an upcoming art collection that Huaisang is sponsoring. He hedges around his reason for being near Xinglu Ridge and lets Wei Wuxian assume it's his annual check of the Nie ancestral tomb.

It is turning into a pleasant evening and Huaisang feels better than he has in a long time. 

And then Wei Wuxian casually mentions that he’s not living at Cloud Recesses and, more importantly, he is not with Lan Wangji. 

Huaisang snaps his fan open. These _idiots_. The best thing to come from this whole mess, well, besides Huaisang’s long-awaited revenge, obviously, was the reunion of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and now Wei Wuxian has the gall to admit they’re _still not together_? 

He is almost positive his teeth are grinding. 

“I suppose it’s boring staying at Cloud Recesses,” Huaisang finally manages. He would find it boring, can distinctly remember making a wish to never have to return there again. But he also doesn't have any ties to the place, or a person who has been pining after him for sixteen years. 

Wei Wuxian laughs. “Yes, but I don’t actually mind. Ah, Huaisang, after everything … boring is a nice change. But it’s been a long time since I’ve been out in the world. I guess I’m on what you’d call a voyage of self discovery - ha!”

Huaisang rolls his eyes. What is never said about voyages of self-discovery is that you rarely learn anything good about yourself while on them. “And what about Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian’s smile dims somewhat, and Huaisang is relieved that his old friend is at least not in complete denial about his feelings - he’s just decided that they don’t matter. Huaisang takes a deep, steadying breath. Of course. This is Wei Wuxian, who has never met a cause he couldn’t sacrifice himself for, and this time he has taken true love handed him on a fated platter and has decided to chuck it. 

As for Lan Wangji, Huaisang can only assume he has some equally exasperating reason for not being with Wei Wuxian.

“Anyway, I am heading back that way for a visit,” Wei Wuxian is saying. “Eventually.”

Ah, Huaisang thinks. Drinks today are being used by Wei Wuxian as a deterrent to travel. He wonders how long his old friend has been putting off this trip. “That’s a shame,” he says lightly. “Cloud Recesses is especially lovely this time of year.”

“Cloud Recesses is always beautiful,” Wei Wuxian says with heavy longing and then, just as Huaisang is about to say something a bit unbecoming for a sect leader, his old friend suddenly looks up with a sly look on his face. 

Alcohol has not dulled any of the warning bells in Huaisang’s head; he remembers that look from their youth. “What?” he asks warily. 

“Come back with me,” Wei Wuxian says. 

****

Cloud Recesses really is beautiful year round. 

Huaisang has tried to paint Cloud Recesses once or twice but his brushwork has never quite captured it correctly. He thinks idly of this failure as they make their way through the main gate and towards wherever the Chief Cultivator is. He wonders if the problem is one of aptitude or apathy. He has always excelled at landscapes but perhaps his time as a student here has colored his perception or has turned his eye too clinical; his paintings have always been perfectly correct in line, shade, and depth and have always also been perfectly boring. 

Or perhaps, until very recently, Huaisang has had other things on his mind. His mouth quirks in a quick smile. Vengeance is a kind of beauty, after all.

Huaisang then stifles a sigh and puts aside thoughts of vengeance. That is done with now and it is his own fault that he never considered what he would do after, which was shortsighted indeed if his new role in life is now as a matchmaker.

 _Nie Huaisang_ , he thinks in bemusement. _Head-shaker and Mender of Relationships. Nie Huaisang, Fixer of Broken Things._

Huaisang tries not to think of Lan Xichen. He has tried not to think of Xichen for three months now and so, naturally, this means that Huaisang thinks about him often.

They are escorted to the jingshi, even though Wei Wuxian should know the way; Huaisang suspects that the Lan disciples are also determined to keep the pair in a room until they work through their bullshit. Huaisang and Wei Wuxian are hardly a few steps inside when Lan Wangji is suddenly in the doorway and … oh, it is as painful to watch as Huaisang feared. The world takes an immense pause as Lan Wangji’s face registers an infinitesimal amount of surprise, then as much joy as Huaisang supposes one can expect from human statuary. Wei Wuxian is smiling softly and obviously doesn’t realize how much his whole body is starting to lean towards Lan Wangji. 

Huaisang thinks he might be starting to have a migraine. He wonders how Lan Xichen ever dealt with these two without wanting to knock their heads together or bash them over the head repeatedly with his xiao. 

He bows, starts to offer to step outside for a moment, and then surprises everyone, himself included, by asking if he can see Lan Xichen. 

Lan Wangji’s eyes narrow, probably because he has noticed Huaisang for the first time. He looks briefly at Wei Wuxian, who predictably squirms as he can hardly say that Huaisang is here to make sure he doesn’t abandon the noble quest to not throw himself into his beloved’s arms. Huaisang is trying to decide how he can walk back his words or maybe spontaneously combust. 

“My brother is in seclusion,” Lan Wangji says.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Huaisang lies. Of course, he knows. _Everybody knows_. And even if it hadn’t been reported to him, show a world where a Lan didn’t stew in his own grief and Huaisang would show you a Jiang Cheng who could go a whole banquet without swearing at someone. He expects Xichen to be in seclusion for six months at the minimum. 

But Huaisang is also now curious. Lan sect seclusion will be nothing like our Nie sect seclusion, he thinks with a dark chuckle. And Huaisang can admit that he has been concerned for Lan Xichen, especially since Huaisang was one of the reasons the man was in seclusion in the first place. 

“But your Excellency,” Huaisang attempts. “There have been some … incidents in the Unclean Realm lately, and I badly need his advice.” 

Lan Wangji says nothing.

“Of course, I would greatly welcome Your Excellency’s excellent advice, it’s just Zewu jun has been aiding the Nie sect for several years now and I think he’d know the intricacies of our little problem best.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t blink.

Huaisang takes a deep breath and decides to use his one advantage. He looks over at Wei Wuxian, who is still stupidly basking in the glory of Lan Wangji’s light, and then back at the Chief Cultivator. He raises an eyebrow. 

_Look here, Wangji_ , he hopes his look conveys, _I brought your love back to you. Twice. Let me see your brother._

Lan Wangji finally exhales. “He’s in the hanshi.”

****

Huaisang doesn’t know why he’s here. 

He had decided to come back to Cloud Recesses because he had been needed, and obviously Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were hopeless if they needed his help. But asking to see Lan Xichen was beyond idiocy. What was he even suppose to say? 

_I’m sorry for not confiding in you, but I knew you’d try to stop me?_

_I’m sorry but if I had the choice to do it all over again, I would?_

_I’m sorry?_

Huaisang snorts - more useless words have never been spoken - and then realizes he has alerted Lan Xichen to his presence when the other man calls faintly from inside. 

He considers running. Just leaving Xichen and the lovebirds and any other problems behind and continuing on his way to Xinglu Ridge, to a bridge spanning over a deep abyss and the pavilion that waits for him beyond the darkness. 

It would be easier to run, so maybe that’s why he doesn’t. He has always preferred taking the easier path but, if anything, the last several years have taught him that he’s perfectly capable of taking the longer and more difficult road if he has to. Huaisang sighs; this visit is long overdue. He has to. 

He enters the hanshi. 

If Lan Xichen is surprised to see Huaisang, he doesn’t show it. It is Huaisang who is surprised as he comes to stand across from the other man. At first glance, there is nothing about Xichen that seems out of place. He is sitting at his table, possibly reading several messages Huaisang can see stacked beside him, possibly in the middle of mediation that Huaisang has interrupted. But the lighting in the room doesn’t even have to shift before he can see that something is very wrong. 

Huaisang bows awkwardly, trying and failing not to stare. Between the two Lan brothers, Huaisang had always considered Wangji the more beautiful, a man carved from jade, an ethereal being gracing the world with his presence. But Huaisang hadn’t fully realized the radiance of Xichen until it was gone. 

_I did this_ , Huaisang thinks with horror. 

This Xichen is dressed in white robes and looks thinner in both figure and spirit. His hair is barely swept back from a too pale face, and that face is tired and sad. The hint of mischief that Huaisang has often caught in Xichen’s eyes is completely gone. 

He looks like a portrait of mourning entitled Lan Xichen, a Twin Jade of Grief.

Lan Xichen, a living cenotaph in the memory of Jin Guangyao.

 _No_ , Huaisang thinks. _No, **he** did this._

Huaisang is unprepared for the wave of sudden unrestrained fury that rises in him. 

“The best thing he ever did,” Huaisang spits, “was to make sure you didn’t die with him in that temple. But I see you’re still trying to do that anyway.”

Lan Xichen’s mouth drops slightly open. Huaisang might have been shocked as well, if he didn’t feel so murderous. “Huaisang,” Xichen starts, his voice hoarse. 

“Xichen-ge,” Huaisang returns, the words a sharper stab than he intends. But it doesn’t matter. These Lans and their grief! If Xichen can still care about that … that monster, then why should Huaisang care about Xichen’s feelings? And if he really intends to go to Suoxian Pavillon, it is better to leave with no uncertainties. 

“I lied,” Huaisang says.

Lan Xichen reacts slowly but enough to know that he understands, that he’s probably always understood. It is the easiest lie in the world, Huaisang thinks, to look away, to hide your face behind a fan and claim ignorance, but it only really works if the other person doesn’t know you. Jin Guangyao hadn’t really understood Huaisang at all, but apparently Lan Xichen had. 

And yet … 

“ _Huaisang, is it true_ ,” he says, mocks, before Xichen can try to pretend otherwise. 

Somehow that pale face draws even paler and then color starts to slowly spread, a slight flush of pink across Xichen’s cheek, as if Huaisang has slapped him. 

Huaisang wants to. He wants to slap reason back into him and tear this love of Jin Guangyao from him and into pieces. He wants to burn the pieces so they can never haunt anyone again.

Will I never be free from Jin Guangyao?

“ _Xichen-ge_ ,” Huaisang fake-stammers, “ _the way you are asking, now I can’t be certain … I don’t know_.”

Lan Xichen is looking at him like he’s grown a second head or, more exactly, like Huaisang is a crazed murderer that has invaded his peace. “Huaisang,” he tries again. “What are-“

“I don’t know,” Huaisang repeats. He watches emotions flash across Lan Xichen’s face: hurt, confusion, and then the smallest flicker of anger, and he feels a small sense of victory. “I don’t know, Xichen-ge.”

“Huaisang,” Xichen says slowly. “You need to stop.”

“I don’t know,” Huaisang almost sing-songs in return. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know."

“Stop,” Xichen says firmly and now there is a warning note in his voice. 

But Huaisang can’t stop. He wants to. He doesn’t want to hurt Lan Xichen anymore than he already has; Xichen is probably the most warm hearted soul he has ever known, and he has always been there for for Huaisang and his family.

But an angry Lan Xichen is better than a half dead one, and Huaisang thinks he can live with Xichen’s hate. 

“I don’t know,” Huaisang says, like a challenge. Like a curse.

“Enough,” Xichen says flatly, and there is finally, finally, some emotion other than despair in his eyes. Huaisang had never imagined a day when he’d see Lan Xichen direct such anger at anyone, least of all him, but then Huaisang had never imagined a lot of things. 

“I really don’t know, Xichen-ge,” Huaisang says with a shrug. “So why didn’t you?”

Xichen’s eyes widen. Then he stands. “Get out.” His expression is now barely contained rage, enough to quell even the bravest cultivator and certainly leave any junior disciple shaking in their boots. 

Most people would run screaming from such a promise of violence.

Most people didn’t have Nie Mingjue for a brother. Xichen’s fury is nothing compared to his brother’s infamous temper. 

Huaisang delivers the final blow. He lets himself smile, false and pleasant, a near perfect copy of the monster who has claimed Xichen’s heart. 

“Make me,” Huaisang says.


	2. Chapter 2

A fan is not the best defense against a sword. 

Huaisang throws his fan anyway in an attempt to distract Xichen and gain some better ground, but Xichen effortlessly slices it in half and continues to charge forward. 

The fight can’t last long - Xichen is too enraged now to be talked down and Huaisang has forsaken the saber for a poisonous tongue. It doesn’t. Huaisang dodges left, then right, and then suddenly he is flying backwards through the air, _through the hanshi’s walls_ , past its steps, and finally landing hard upon the earth. 

It takes a minute for his body to remember how to breathe, a few more to roll carefully onto his back. Huaisang thinks he hears Xichen angrily call his name and still has the time to wonder if he’s about to be skewered so he decides it probably isn’t going to happen. By the time he sits up, Xichen has disappeared inside and Huaisang is smart enough to know that he should leave now before the other man changes his mind. 

Huaisang stands carefully, marveling slightly at how he isn’t spitting up blood, although a tiny trickle is bleeding from his nose. He dusts his robes lightly and considers how he’s going to explain his appearance to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. His hands are dirty and his robes are torn; in the past they might have believed Huaisang had simply tripped badly over his own two feet, but he knows that everything he says is suspect now. There is no hiding what has happened. 

There is no hiding. 

A cackle escapes. Huaisang claps a dirty hand over his mouth, but that only makes the laughter turn into muted giggles, his shoulders shaking with the effort to hold them in. All this time spent hiding - hiding his intentions, hiding behind fans, hiding behind others, all this time and it is done now. There is no more hiding. 

He doesn’t know why he finds that so funny. 

“Huaisang?”

He looks up. Xichen is at the steps of the hanshi, his hand clenched around Huaisang’s broken fan, and he is looking down at Huaisang with … concern?

And that …. Huaisang is caught somewhere between embarrassment and complete exasperation. Trust Lan Xichen to kick his ass and then feel _bad_ about it. 

Trust Xichen to see something that Huaisang would never want anyone else to see.

“Xichen-ge,” Huaisang exhales. His anger is … well, it’s not gone but it has cooled enough to see the foolishness in antagonizing Xichen into more fighting, and Xichen has composed himself again although he is frowning slightly. Huaisang forces a smile. “Perhaps it is best to part ways here.”

Xichen says nothing for a moment, then nods slowly. Huaisang feels Xichen watching as he makes his way slowly back towards the heart of Cloud Recesses and it is hard not to turn back and beg him to stop dying for a dead man. That Jin Guangyao is not worth Xichen’s devotion. And, as stupid as the words may be, that Huaisang is sorry. 

Huaisang doesn’t turn back. Thankfully, it is easy enough to avoid Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji who are nowhere to be found. He has a childish hope it is because they are off somewhere breaking multiple Lan rules featuring disgraceful poses and promiscuity, but he somehow doubts it. 

_Whatever_ , Huaisang thinks. _You got Wei Wuxian here. It’s not your problem anymore._ And Xichen … well, he has undoubtably made that problem worse but there is no way he can think of to make it better. 

He leaves Cloud Recesses quietly and heads in the direction of home and tells himself that if his path diverges to Xinglu Ridge then so be it. 

***

He doesn’t go to Xinglu Ridge. 

When Huaisang had left home he hadn’t given much thought to what would happen to his sect should he never return. It had been an impulse to visit Xinglu Ridge, something he had dreamed about long enough that he had finally decided to just go and … see what would happen. 

He understands now that he should have planned better. Huaisang has never been the best sect leader but the Head Shaker has been far more capable than he has let others believe; he has run the Nie sect efficiently, if not gloriously, from the shadows. This little side trip to Cloud Recesses, however, has taken too much time and Huaisang knows that if he doesn’t show at the Unclean Realm soon his sect will start to unravel from the usual petty bickering, bad decisions, and scrambles for power. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving his brother’s legacy to ruin; when all is said and done, Huaisang _does_ want the Nie clan to prosper and he has not left it in a position to do so; he decides to return home.

It does not take too long to reign in some of his more ambitious disciples or to correct some foolish decisions made in his absence, but the more Huaisang plans, the more he sees that it will take time to secure his sect, to keep it at a level of prosperity that Mingjue would be proud of. So Huaisang starts to take a more active role in his leadership and finds it dull but manageable. It keeps him so busy that he is too tired by the end of the day to consider anything else and, if he’s being honest with himself, it distracts him from thoughts of Xichen and the growing fear that Huaisang has broken something that cannot be fixed. 

_And that’s what you get for going there without a plan_ , Huaisang scolds himself. If he had only prepared himself better, if only he had avoided Lan Xichen altogether … Everything could have remained as it had been: lies, of course, but lies that everyone could live with. Perhaps.

He tries his best, but their world is not so large that he can forget or ignore Lan Xichen forever. Like any good sect leader, Huaisang has spies to keep him informed and his people in Gusu soon bring word that Xichen has left seclusion. 

Huaisang feels conflicted. On one hand, he is glad that Lan Xichen has finally left the hanshi and appears to be in better health. But his spies also report that Xichen is still a shadow of his former self, which can only mean that he still longs for Jin Guangyao. It is intolerable, but what can Huaisang do? Visit again and again to chase off the ghost of Jin Guangyao? Send Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji letters begging them to interfere? Ridiculous. 

As an odd compromise with himself, Huaisang begins drawing the hanshi. 

It is unintentional at first, just scribbles that grow into bamboo trees which eventually lead down a somber path towards a haunted-looking construction more akin to how he imagined the Chang clan’s residence first appeared to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. It isn’t surprising, given Huaisang’s other drawings of late, but he obviously can’t leave Lan Xichen in such a place and so his time for the following weeks is split between strengthening the Nie clan legacy and perfecting a home worthy of Zewu jun. Huaisang is just starting to get both his goals to a halfway worthy place when the letter comes from Cloud Recesses. 

He hopes it is a notice of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s wedding. 

He fears it is some kind of rejection of the informal ties between the Lan and Nie clans in response to what he has done to Lan Xichen, or worse, some kind of personal scathing rejection from the man himself. 

It turns out to be an invitation to a three day conference of sect leaders hosted by His Excellency.

Huaisang makes a face. He would desperately love to refuse the invitation or, in a slightly more politic move, send a representative in his place but, of course, this is impossible. For Lan Wangji this conference will be used to right injustices and set procedures to ensure equality etc., etc., but for the rest of the cultivation world it will be used to trade gossip, make alliances, take the measure of everyone, and see who is in Lan Wangji’s favor. It is the perfect opportunity to see the progress of his clan; there is no question of him not attending. 

And, yes, Huaisang can see just how Lan Xichen is doing for himself. Not that he really knows what he’ll do with that information. 

Huaisang sighs and pulls out his second favorite fan. It will be so _boring_ , but, three days is not such a long time. He has waited for far longer. 

****

Huaisang is clearly not in Lan Wangji’s favor. 

The conference is as boring as Huaisang predicted, but he is at least able to finally secure some things that have slowly been in the works and Wei Wuxian brings some entertainment with his frank admiration of His Excellency and by interrupting every now and then with some comment that makes the elder sect leaders spasm and bluster for several minutes.

Huaisang had forgotten, however, how much of a petty bastard Lan Wangji could be; as a punishment for antagonizing his brother, His Excellency has seated Huaisang between sect leaders Yao and Ouyang for the duration of the conference. 

Thirty minutes in on the first day, Yao and Ouyang are talking across him.

By the end of the first hour, they have begun to complain about, well, everything - the new policies they hate, minor offenses by lesser sects, Wei Wuxian (obviously), everything, even the meals they are served. And Huaisang finds the bland palate of the Lans as boring as anything, but honestly, how can you criticize perfectly cooked rice?

Two hours in and Huaisang is idly contemplating the ramifications of murdering Yao and Ouyang. It would be bad, especially considering Huaisang has already had a hand in killing one sect leader, but then again, he would be doing the world a favor. Again. 

As a break is called at hour three, Huaisang finds himself reminiscing about the time when he was just a boy studying at Cloud Recesses and didn’t have a purpose beyond enjoying his art, his drink, and getting into mischief with his friends.

“ — and I still can’t believe they’re letting Wei Wuxian stay in Cloud Recesses,” Ouyang is complaining in a hushed whisper.

“It is shameless!” Yao agrees. “I even hear he is sharing a room with Lan Wangji!” Huaisang must make some kind of disgusted noise - not because they are sharing a room but because they are undoubtably sharing a room and _doing nothing_ \- and Yao starts and then looks at Huaisang as if noticing him for the first time. “What do _you_ think, Huaisang?”

“I miss my pornography,” Huaisang sighs. He remembers giving a rather lovely work to Wei Wuxian once to play a prank on Lan Wangji which was promptly destroyed; his newest acquisition isn’t drawn nearly as well, but it is certainly more entertaining than these two. Besides, Huaisang knows that his answer will send them into a qi deviation. Not that he would really wish that on anyone. 

Yao is indeed beginning to sputter when Lan Xichen walks up to them. 

The three of them are surprised. No one really expected to see Xichen. As the Lan sect leader, Xichen should have been a part of the conference, but he had deferred his role to Lan Qiren citing only having recently returned from seclusion. Still, Xichen must be dutifully greeting all of the sect leaders, even the ones he despises, which is admirable as a hosting sect leader even if it hurts Huaisang a little to be grouped with these two morons. 

Which is why Huaisang is even more surprised when Lan Xichen only gives Yao and Ouyang the briefest of greetings before turning to him. “Huaisang,” he says pleasantly. “Let’s continue our discussion.”

Oh … shit.

Huaisang’s mouth drops open. His mind stutters briefly and then he automatically falls back on old habits. 

“Zewu jun,” he whines, bringing out his fan to partially hide behind. “Can we … discuss this another time? I’m _so_ tired and the day has been _so_ long. ”

It is not his best moment ever, but Huaisang painfully remembers his bruised ribs from last time and, yeah, he’d rather not repeat that experience.

“Has it?” Xichen asks in such a mild voice that Huaisang thinks that even Yao and Ouyang must hear the threat underneath, the one that quite clearly states Xichen will settle this in front of everyone right here and now unless Huaisang leaves with him immediately. 

“Ah,” Huaisang winces. “Y-yes, this discussion is probably better to have now.” Lan Xichen says goodbye to the other two, who are smirking at Huaisang as if they think he is only about to get some kind of scolding, and walks away. 

Huaisang shakes his head and then follows. He really should start walking around with at least a sword. 

They take a path Huaisang that is unfamiliar with which leads them through a grove of bamboo and out into a clearing that is beautiful, quiet, and terribly isolated. Xichen comes to a stop and appears to be admiring the scenery or, more likely, waiting for him to say something; Huaisang doesn’t have to fake his reluctance to step closer or open his mouth to speak. There is nothing he can say that will take away the things he has said and done. 

“You said I was trying to die for him,” Xichen says finally. “That’s not … that’s not what I was trying to do.” He considers, his next words following on an exhale that sounds somewhere between amusement and bitterness. “I guess I did forget why I went into seclusion in the first place. It became a kind of … repentance.” He shakes his head. “I suppose we really do learn the wrong lessons from our fathers.”

Huaisang blinks. This wasn’t exactly how he imagined their conversation would begin. He thinks of the Nie clan leaders who have died because of their continued tradition of trying to control the sword spirit and of how Mingjue followed their example. He thinks of how he has gone the opposite way, although one could argue that he has ended up in nearly the same state - prone to fits of murderous rage and so angry at times that he feels like he might explode. 

And then he thinks again of his brother, who still might have been able to overcome it all, if not for Jin Guangyao. “I’m not going to apologize.”

Lan Xichen turns. “I’m not sure I would accept it.”

Huaisang frowns. “Then what are we doing here, Xichen-ge?” 

“I suppose,” he replies slowly, “that I wanted to know why.”

Why. Huaisang had tortured himself once with that question. Mingjue had not been kind to Jin Guangyao, had (rightly) thought him a murderer and a liar, but it had still taken him a long time to understand why Jin Guangyao had chosen to slowly drive his brother mad with the Collection of Turmoil instead of just driving a sword through his heart. He had eventually come to the realization that it had been more than just making it appear to be an accident, to be the inevitable consequences of the Sword Spirit; Jin Guangyao had chosen the most horrific ending because he wanted Mingjue to suffer. 

The answer to Xichen’s question is obvious, but then Xichen has always had blinders on when it comes to Jin Guangyao. “Because he loved you,” Huaisang replies. 

Xichen’s expression is confused and Huaisang feels a surge of pity for him. Xichen is a good man, a great sect leader, but would make a poor villain. 

“I waited,” Huaisang tells him, “but everyone just kept talking. He would have talked himself out of it, you know. Poor Meng Yao who was never loved. Poor Jin Guangyao who never stood a chance.” Huaisang makes a disgusted noise. “And then I saw it and it’s true what they say about sudden inspiration - you were there and I knew that for Jin Guangyao the worst punishment would be a final strike from the one he loved best. It was too easy, Xichen-ge.”

Huaisang smiles. The memory of Jin Guangyao’s shocked face still gives him pleasure, at least. “I also will spare no mercy."

Lan Xichen closes his eyes and gives a painful sigh. “Such venom in your heart, Huaisang.”

“It has a saber’s edge,” Huaisang agrees because he too can wax poetic. But he doesn’t want to hurt Xichen anymore than he already has. 

_My heart is a saber_ , he thinks ruefully, _but yours is not. I don’t want to cut you again_.

“Xichen-ge,” Huaisang says. “I don’t want to fight but please don’t waste your time mourning Jin Guangyao. He was never worthy of you.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes snap open. “It is not for you, or for anyone, to decide my feelings. I will mourn for as long as I need.”

“Even for sixteen years if needed,” Huaisang retorts sourly.

A hint of a smile crosses Xichen’s face. “Wangji never does things in half measures. Hopefully not that long. But, Huaisang,” he adds, almost carefully. “there is no set limit to grief and it is not a thing to be controlled. Or put away forever. Do you understand?”

Huaisang feels his grip on his fan tighten. He wants to argue, wants to make Xichen see reason, but he supposes it will have to be enough to know that he is being more careful with his grief. Still. “You have nothing to repent for.”

Lan Xichen is wearing a politely skeptical expression, the one that says he doesn’t really believe you but is willing to hear you out. “Do you feel sorry, Huaisang?”

Huaisang considers. Sometimes, often, he awakens not to Mo Xuanyu, or even Qin Su, as he expects, but to the ghost of his own words haunting him. 

_Aren’t they human beings?_ Huaisang had once demanded of Mingjue at Xinglu Ridge. _Are you qualified to decide their fate?_

Was Huaisang? 

It seems a pointless thing to worry over if Huaisang would do it all over again. But before he can answer they hear the sound of someone running towards them. A Lan disciple - Lan Jingyi, he thinks, - suddenly bursts into the clearing. “Zewu jun! Cloud Recesses is on fire!”


	3. Chapter 3

The fire is put out relatively quickly, thankfully does not hurt anyone, and only damages a portion of Cloud Recesses. The Lans are understandably touchy about fire though so the investigation is immediate and thorough, but ultimately declared an accident after no concrete evidence can be found. 

That isn’t to say there are no suspects - the fire is widely assumed by all to have been caused by some careless junior messing around while waiting for the day’s conference to end. Discipline is therefore left up to each sect leader’s discretion, although most disciples appear to get off lightly in their punishment, most likely because Lan Sizhui gives a very eloquent speech about unfairly suspecting a person because of their youth. Huaisang thinks it is perhaps the politest ‘go fuck yourselves, old people,’ he has ever heard in his whole life and is also quite certain that Sizhui knows, or at least suspects, who is responsible for the fire. 

But, quite frankly, Huaisang has more important things to worry about. 

The fire has damaged Cloud Recesses’ guest rooms and this, naturally, has put the conference on hold. Repairs will not take forever, but it will be several months before they are up to Lan standards which leaves Lan Wangji with the option of either postponing the conference to next year or changing the conference’s location. 

It becomes immediately apparent that there are only three places that are suitable to host, just as it becomes quickly obvious which one will be the best suited.

Huaisang can see Lan Wangji consider his options. Koi Tower is spacious and the Jin clan is certainly wealthy enough to host everyone in style, but it is a heavy burden to place on Jin Ling, who is just starting to grow confidence as a sect leader, not to mention the association between Lanling and Jin Guangyao is still fresh in people’s minds. 

Jin Ling also stabbed Wei Wuxian that one time and Huaisang thinks Lan Wangji is just petty enough to rule out Koi Tower because of it. 

It is also no secret that Lan Wangji _hates_ Jiang Cheng, who has also stabbed Wei Wuxian, although, of course, the brother’s conflict goes much deeper than that. Sect Leader Jiang has been oddly subdued, at least for Jiang Cheng that is, and he and Wei Wuxian have been walking on egg shells around each other all day, have probably been since the day at Guanyin Temple and its revelations. Huaisang thinks that Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng would probably try and beat each other senseless if they had to try and coordinate a conference together, and Wei Wuxian would probably tear all of his hair out trying to keep them from killing each other. 

The Unclean Realm is the obvious choice. The Nie sect has always been a good friend to the Lan - brothers in austerity, unrelenting in their value of justice and truth, at least in theory. The Unclean Realm is not too flashy, it does not carry the weight of reconciliation, and Huaisang has not yet tried to stab Wei Wuxian. 

The only downside is Huaisang himself, with his questionable morals and his potential to aggravate Wangji’s brother. 

Lan Wangji and Huaisang both look at Lan Xichen, who in turn frowns slightly under their inspection. He opens his mouth just as Lan Wangji inhales as if preparing himself to speak, but Huaisang is quicker.

“Our humble sect would be honored to aid His Excellency as host,” Huaisang says cheerfully. 

This might be his biggest lie yet. Huaisang does _not_ want to host. He does not want to be under the scrutiny of the other sect leaders, does not want to be watched by Wei Wuxian’s clever eyes or Lan Wangji’s judgmental ones. Ugh, he does not want to have Yao and Ouyang in his home. Just the thought of it all sounds exhausting and he already has to avoid the watchfulness of his own disciples. 

But it’s a chance to show off to the other sects and, more importantly, Lan Wangji will owe him a favor. It’s the political move, the smart move. 

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji exchange glances. Jin Ling’s face is a perfect balance of relief and annoyance, and Jiang Cheng just looks a bit constipated, but that’s also his default expression. Huaisang wonders if he can somehow trick Jiang Cheng into having some fun post conference, then tells himself to knock it off; he doesn’t need another project. 

Lan Xichen looks thoughtful. It makes Huaisang feel nervous for some reason, but at least he can take comfort in knowing that Xichen will remain in Cloud Recesses while Lan Qiren is acting as sect leader. 

“I would be grateful,” Lan Wangji says finally. His expression, as always, is perfectly neutral, but Huaisang thinks he can see a touch of some resigned emotion around the eyes. Wei Wuxian, at least, gives him a covert thumbs up. 

_Okay_ , Huaisang thinks. _It’s okay. I can do this_.”

****

Lan Xichen does not stay in Cloud Recesses.

It is the first in a number of small annoyances as host, but it’s the only one that makes what Huaisang imagines is his rather pitiful golden core clench with unease. It’s not that he expects Lan Xichen to publicly denounce him, or barge into Huaisang’s room looking for a fight, or do anything un-Lanish; he just has one more thing to worry about now and it’s only made worse by the knowledge that he really should have expected it. He’s always been unlucky. 

His morning is only saved by a slight victory over the idiot couple (‘Oh, so you’re _not_ cultivation partners? Well, really, Wei Wuxian, how was I to know that? No, I’m sorry we don’t have another bed to spare’) and the fact that some kind-hearted individual accepted his bribe to place a very tiny curse on Sect Leader Yao, keeping the man at home in bed for the duration of this conference. 

The rest of the day is tedious discussions about policy and only one minor blow-up from Jiang Cheng, so Huaisang considers the second official day of the conference a success and is happily sneaking off to his room when Wei Wuxian blindsides him in the corridor. 

“Go make up with your brother,” Huaisang says sourly.

Wei Wuxian laughs. “We’ve already made up. The rest will just take time.”

They stroll together quietly. Wei Wuxian had always been good at filling the air with his words in the past, but he remains silent, and Huaisang is annoyed that he breaks first. “Go bother Lan Wangji then,” he says, flicking his fan out in irritation. 

Wei Wuxian shoots him a look. “That was a mean trick.”

“Mean!?” Huaisang exclaims. “What’s mean? I was _helping_. You’ll never get together at this pace. Jin Ling will be an old man before that happens. Jiang Cheng will _ascend_ first. Take pity on the rest of us with eyes and go _do_ something about it.”

Huaisang expects Wei Wuxian to have something to say about his ‘help,’ but his old friend just looks flustered, maybe even a little lost. Huaisang frowns. If they were still friends, he could just tease Wei Wuxian and get him to confide about Lan Wangji, but of course they are far beyond their old drinking days. 

He stops and sighs. “Just ask him.”

Wei Wuxian turns and frowns. “Ask him what?”

“Anything,” Huaisang says, neatly stepping past Wei Wuxian. “If Lan Wangji thinks it’s something you want, the answer will always be ‘yes.’ You might try asking him if you can wear his forehead ribbon, though, or ask to see his inner robes,” Huaisang throws over his shoulder, “and save yourself some time.”

He is shaking his head, feeling somewhere between exasperation and amusement, which Huaisang thinks must be most people’s experience with Wei Wuxian, when he finally approaches his rooms and stops short. 

Lan Xichen, waiting patiently by his door, greets him with a polite smile. 

Huaisang heaves another sigh. “Come in.”

His rooms haven’t changed much over the years, they are still framed by the same Nie sect stone-grey accents and furnishings that favor function over comfort. They are in a terrible state, however. Planning for the conference has left Huaisang with little time to care about appearances and so the first thing seen as they enter are several stacks of records, requests, and reports, the small whirlwind of clothing left behind from this morning’s indecision, and the remains of last night’s dinner. 

He winces slightly, but Lan Xichen does not comment, probably because it would be rude. He _does_ start to wander around however, which is definitely rude, but then Huaisang invaded Xichen’s place first, so he supposes it’s only fair, even though _he_ has little chance of throwing Xichen through a wall if things start to go badly. 

Huaisang decides to get straight to the point. “I do,” he says, continuing their conversation from last time. “Feel sorry. Sometimes.”

Lan Xichen says nothing. His inspection is quiet and has probably gone beyond feeling awkward, or casually curious, and is some kind of active search. Huaisang can’t even begin to imagine what he must be looking for and is becoming slightly annoyed, which is why he doesn’t warn Xichen as the sect leader approaches the low table near his bed. It is currently showcasing one of Huaisang’s less wholesome purchases and he bites back a smirk. 

“Ah,” Lan Xichen only says when he notices it. He regards the image of a man who has almost certainly been modeled after a Lan disciple and the other man he is … discipling. “This anatomy seems disproportionate.” He then looks back at Huaisang. “One of yours?”

Huaisang blinks, then…

“ _Zewu jun _,” he almost howls. Xichen gives a small smile and moves on to the next portion of the room. He stops before a reproduction of a sword chart that Huaisang has hung in a place of prominence and makes a small sound of approval.__

Huaisang is still trying to process the fact that Xichen has just teased him about his taste, his experience, and his _artistic skill_ in less than five words, so it takes him a minute to realize Xichen is now starting to peruse a stack of Huaisang’s drawings. He’s not exactly embarrassed by his studies of the hanshi, but he doesn’t really have a good reason for drawing them either. 

“These are lovely,” Xichen says. He sounds sincere and it makes Huaisang feel a bit smug, having captured the hanshi well enough that Xichen knows it. 

“I have my moments,” he replies with a smile.

“Yes,” Xichen says evenly.

He feels the smile drops off his face. Right. Huaisang clears his throat. “They’re just practice. I wanted to see if I can get the right-“

__He breaks off as he realizes what Xichen’s about to unveil and moves to block the next page. Xichen neatly, and somehow still politely, smacks his hand away and moves to the next page, then sharply inhales._ _

__Suoxian Pavilion holds no loveliness, only corpses. They are in different stages of decay, some with dried flesh pulled over their grimaces and some only the frail bone outlines of once great men. All of them have been bound by chains, all of which they had to put on themselves._ _

__“Huaisang,” Xichen asks with wide eyes. “What is this?”_ _

__He forces himself to shrug, but can’t quite meet Xichen’s eyes. “Just scribbles.”_ _

__Huaisang can hear the sound of the pages as Xichen turns them; the corpses of the Nie sect leaders fill several pages. “Don’t lie, Huaisang,” Xichen says reproachfully._ _

__Huaisang looks up. “Just nightmares.”_ _

__It’s not a complete lie. Sometimes he does dream of Mingjue, bound by chains and screaming at him for shaming the ancestors, and sometimes he does see the dead Nie sect leaders locking Huaisang in those chains instead._ _

__But mostly, when Huaisang dreams of Suoxian Pavilion at Xinglu Ridge, he has only thoughts of relief._ _

__Or at least he used to - Huaisang has been too busy lately to give himself time to consider if he still feels the same. But he can’t expect Xichen to understand his version of ‘a fallen leaf returning to its roots.’ Thankfully, he is certain that his brother would never have discussed the place with Xichen; his shame had been too great._ _

__“I did say I feel sorry sometimes,” Huaisang adds with bit of a pout. It’s a bit much, but he honestly can’t decipher the expression on Xichen’s face right now and his words should either provoke sympathy or anger. But Xichen’s face only remains guarded, bordering on the careful blank face of Lan Wangji._ _

__Huaisang hates it. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he demands._ _

__It is Xichen’s turn to look away. He lowers the horrors of Suoxian Pavilion and returns to the sketches of the hanshi, his fingers hovering over a version which Huaisang has set during a late autumn evening. “I miss not having to question everything I am told,” Xichen says finally. “I miss not having to think the worst of people.”_ _

__Huaisang huffs a small laugh. “Would it surprise you to know that I wish the same?”_ _

__Xichen’s answering smile is sad. “Not at all. My hope, however, is that we could both unlearn that particular skill.”_ _

__“I don’t think I could go back to having that blind faith,” Huaisang says doubtfully._ _

__“I meant more along the lines of faith in me,” Xichen replied. “Trust."_ _

__“Ah, and be honest with each other instead?”_ _

__“And be honest with each other instead.”_ _

__Huaisang’s lips twitch. “I don’t think your temper could survive my honesty, Xichen-ge.”_ _

__What can only be described as a twinkle of mischief appears in Xichen’s eyes. “You asked for that.” He then pulls the scene of the autumn-lit hanshi from the stack, carefully rolls it, tucks it under his arm, and heads for the door. “Goodnight, Huaisang.”_ _

__Huaisang is startled into laughter. “Zewu jun!”_ _

__Lan Xichen is out the door without another look back, without waiting for Huaisang’s answer, and Huaisang is almost positive the man is smiling as he goes. If letting Xichen steal ( _steal!_ ) his artwork is enough to make him happy, Huaisang finds that he is more than willing to part with the drawing, even if that one had been his favorite. _ _

__But putting his complete trust in the man, of being completely honest with him, that is something Huaisang will have to think about._ _

__****_ _

__The last days of the conference are uneventful. Lan Wangji gets the sect leaders to agree with most of his reforms and appears unconcerned about the ones that don’t pass. There’s a confidence in his expression that says he will strategize, regroup, and get them passed later though and this might be due to the fact that he and Wei Wuxian have seemed to come to some kind of understanding or that Lan Wangji is just a stubborn asshole._ _

__Everyone is slow to leave or at least Huaisang, as host, is ready for everyone to leave sooner than they finally do. The Lan party heads out last, with Wei Wuxian practically grinning as they go and Lan Wangji following with a frankly terrifying almost-smirk on his face._ _

__As sect leaders, Xichen and Huaisang exchange formal bows and farewells and then Xichen tells him to take care of himself and to send word if needed, both said with an indecipherable look on his face that make Huaisang feel nervous, as if Xichen can see some cause for concern. It is a little annoying because it’s not like Huaisang has another years long vendetta in the works, but Xichen did say he was trying to not see the worst in people so Huaisang considers that maybe the other sect leader was just uncertain whether his words would be taken as earnest._ _

__The next few months fly by. The conference has helped a boom in tourism and trade, and some of Lan Wangji’s new proposals have been effective in both justice and overall morale of the people. This new world without Jin Guangyao world seems to be going well._ _

__But sometimes it’s not so great. Huaisang still has people who refer to him as the Headshaker and while his disciples are mostly loyal, there are still a few who try to get into pissing contests with him or outright declare him unfit as sect leader. Huaisang tries not to let it bother him too much, he is after all responsible for his own reputation, but sometimes he gets angry enough to consider the ease of taking all of his detractors and sending them to the Burial Mounds for a long visit, and then feels shame. He wonders what would Mingjue do in just about any situation and feels anger yet again at the loss of his brother. He thinks of blind faith and Jin Guangyao and feels rage._ _

__But sometimes it’s not too bad either. He knows he’s gained more respect than he has lost from his sect. Jiang Cheng has been for a visit and actually relaxed enough to crack a smile and say something almost nice about his brother. Lan Xichen’s letters bring news of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji being sickeningly in love with each other - Xichen’s tone is both fond and exasperated to Huaisang’s delight - and just his thoughts in general, the kind of inane nonsense you’d tell to your closest friends just because you could._ _

__True to his word, Xichen has decided to be honest, so when he finds out Huaisang kept Sect Leader Yao from the conference he is _not_ happy, but also writes “I can’t deny that the days I spent at the Unclean Realm were better without his presence.” _ _

__The admission makes Huaisang laugh for the rest of the day._ _

__And then the next day Huaisang wonders if it’s finally time - his sect is in good shape, his old friends are happy, and Xichen is out of seclusion. Perhaps it is time to see if he is ready to see Suoxian Pavilion in person once more._ _

__He decides to visit Xinglu Ridge._ _


	4. Chapter 4

The old bridge over the chasm has been remade, but Huaisang still remembers the feeling of rotten wooden planks snapping beneath him and of wildly grabbing at empty air while giant bats tried their best to carry him away; he decides to sit on the ground instead. 

There is less fog now and the bat infestation has since been taken care of, but the chasm is still the same dark void waiting to swallow anyone too careless. Huaisang’s legs hang over the edge and he kicks his feet a little as he contemplates the darkness below. He knows what is down there, of course, has prepared talismans to aid him on a borrowed sword in a flight to the bottom floor if need be - if that is what he intends to do. 

Huaisang isn’t sure. He doesn’t know if he is testing himself by coming here and what constitutes passing or failing. He doesn’t know if any decision will make his heart feel any lighter, or if he can see any future where he feels a purpose and contentment. He doesn’t even know if he is worthy anymore to wish for any of it. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “I really don’t know anything.” 

Huaisang isn’t sure how long he sits there, time is so difficult to measure when you’re just sitting still, but eventually he becomes aware of the sound of footsteps, the steps soft and measured, perhaps even cautious as they walk into an unknown. They stop behind him and slightly to Huaisang’s right and then he catches a hint of light blue out of the corner of his eye. The color seems to glow in the darkness. Huaisang sighs. 

“If I said I was just taking in the sights … ” he says without looking over. 

“You’re a better liar than that,” Lan Xichen says. He sits down beside Huaisang, all composure and elegance, but Huaisang can still somehow feel the tension running throughout Xichen’s body; Xichen is ready to snatch Huaisang back if he chooses to step into nothingness. 

Huaisang shrugs. “I’m really not, you know. I just have the good fortune to have never been taken seriously. No one ever suspects a fool.”

Xichen takes a breath as if he wants to speak, but then exhales whatever reply he would have made into the void. They are silent for awhile, sitting side by side, long enough that Huaisang starts to drift a little and is startled when Xichen’s voice quietly breaks their silence. 

“Huaisang,” Xichen says. “What is this place?”

“The Nie family ancestral hall,” Huaisang replies, surprised. He turns to Xichen and finds most of the things he expects to see on the other man’s face - concern, a bit of fatigue, but no recognition. “Didn’t … didn’t Lan Wangji …. Wei Wuxian tell you?”

“Tell me?” Xichen asks, his expression briefly changing to annoyance before shaking his head. “No.”

“Then how did you know how to find-” Huaisang begins at the same time Xichen says, “I saw a tomb, but why are you-”

Both their smiles are awkward. Huaisang knows that Xichen will wait for his explanation long before speaking so he gives a short history of Xinglu Ridge, the tomb for the sabres, and of how Jin Ling had been trapped inside months ago. Xichen nods thoughtfully, having known about Mingjue’s condition, but Huaisang can tell that he suspects there is more to the story, otherwise why sit here all alone in the dark? 

It could be the end of the story, though. Huaisang could hide Suoxian Pavilion, make up some small lie and hide behind his fan, claim a need to rest, and then come back another day to test his resolve. He doesn’t want to explain, doesn’t want to argue what he knows in his heart to be true, that without Huaisang there would be no problems for anyone, that his heart is in turns too sharp and too brittle, and that he is so very tired. 

Huaisang could easily lie, but he also doesn’t want to. Not to Xichen. 

He sighs again. “If you don’t mind sharing Shuoyue, I’ll show you.”

****

The pavilion is the same as Huaisang and Mingjue left it - a torch-lit room surrounded by murals carved deep into its stone walls. Huaisang can still hear the sound of water humming faintly in the background and his eye is instantly drawn to the eight-diagram form on the ground. 

Xichen, of course, only sees the corpses. 

The Nie sect leaders are more or less how Huaisang drew them, maybe exaggerated in the case of the one on the far left, but sometimes artistic license needed to be expressed. He watches as Xichen puts it together, pulls whatever small pieces of information he has gleaned over the years from Mingjue, from gossip about the Nie clan, maybe even from his own observations during visits to Qinghe, and comes to realize the sad fate of most of Huaisang’s forebears.

“Mingjue?” Xichen asks softly. 

“He would have come here,” Huaisang says. “If he had been given the chance.”  
His brother had always been determined though. So stubborn and unyielding. “But, you know,” Huaisang can’t help but add, “sometimes I think we could have beaten it. I really think together we could have overcome the saber spirit.”

Xichen looks pained. “If not for A-Yao.” 

Huaisang feels his lips thin at the familiarity, but he says nothing. Who knows how much time his brother might have had if not for Jin Guangyao? 

Xichen returns to contemplating the sect leaders and Huaisang lets him, if only to have a few moments to help keep his own composure. The pain of Huaisang’s loss hurts even more in this place. He and Mingjue had been trapped here together, doomed to a slow death by starvation and failure, but then had found the way out. The future hadn’t looked so bleak. They would complete their mission together. They would defeat the saber spirit. There had been hope. 

But then Huaisang had unwittingly aided Jin Guangyao by playing those cursed notes and Mingjue had succumbed, if only for a moment. He could only guess at what his brother had seen, but really, what did it matter? Nie Zonghui and the other disciples had still been dead by Mingjue’s hand and Huaisang could only lie and say that it had been the saber spirit. 

It was the best lie he ever told and yet Huaisang still doubts whether his brother had truly believed him. The anguish on his face in that moment … the frenzied rage later … 

No, Huaisang can never feel sorry for Jin Guangyao. 

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen says. 

Huaisang almost rolls his eyes. Xichen has been looking better since the day Huaisang had forcibly ended his seclusion, less haunted looking and possibly even more divine, but the Twin Jade of Grief is never far away it seems. 

Huaisang makes a loud tsking sound. “I don’t blame _you_ , Xichen-ge. We were all blind.”

“Some more than others.”

As much as Huaisang loathes the idea of giving Jin Guangyao any kind of credit, he can’t stand the bitterness he hears from Xichen. “He loved you.”

Xichen shakes his head. “That makes it worse, don’t you think?”

“You loved him,” Huaisang takes a deep breath. “Forget what I said that day. I was angry and … sometimes I get so angry and … I’m sorry. I really am sorry. I’ve never blamed you for not knowing. How could you? You loved Jin Guangyao and he never did anything to hurt you. Why would you have looked further?”

“Because I should have known,” Xichen says slowly, almost like he knows what he is saying is nonsense and expects Huaisang to argue with him, but can’t help but say the words because that is how he truly feels. 

Huaisang feels his heart clench; he understands so well - of knowing something you think is probably not true, but it still doesn’t change the fact that you believe it anyway. “Xichen-ge."

“I should have seen,” Xichen says and then Huaisang is unprepared for how quickly the grief suddenly leaves Xichen’s face as his eyes narrow to focus solely on Huaisang. He can actually see the man’s jaw set in determination. 

Lan Xichen, Portrait of a Man Who Will Not Fail Again. 

“Huaisang,” Xichen asks. “Why are you here?”

It’s too late now to pretend, but Huaisang still wishes he could go back to being the Headshaker. He walks over to the eight diagram form on the ground and points at the closest pole. “To leave here you have to hit both poles at the same time,” he explains reluctantly. “With two palms of spiritual energy. Two people.”

Xichen frowns as he walks over. “With two?” 

Huaisang turns away because it is easier. “A sect leader who comes here alone doesn’t leave again.” 

There is dead silence behind him. Huaisang turns, ready to explain that he wasn’t _absolutely_ sure he was going to stay, just maybe, and then the words ‘Well, actually, Xichen-ge’ become a startled ‘oomph’ as Xichen’s arms close around him.

Lan Xichen hugs him tightly, almost as if his arms alone can shield Huaisang from any evil spirit, from any threat in the world, and possibly even from Huaisang’s himself. The funny thing is, in that moment, Huaisang thinks of how he would often pretend to be stumbling drunk around his sworn brothers to further encourage the image of being a useless sect leader. He would hang off Jin Guangyao and plot his revenge, but would genuinely relax once passed off into Lan Xichen’s arms. It had been nice in those times to pretend that he was just a little brother again, just a normal person whose only concerns were trivial, even boring. 

But It’s hard to relax now. Huaisang wants to, he desperately does, but he also doesn’t deserve this sympathy. 

“You can’t,” Xichen is saying to him now, but because it is Xichen it sounds less like a demand and more like a plea. “Huaisang, promise me.”

Huaisang nods agreement, partly because he understands that whatever he’s agreeing to will make Xichen happy, but mostly he just feels numb. 

Xichen makes a small, frustrated noise and pulls back, but keeps his hands on Huaisang’s shoulders. “Huaisang,” he says gently. “I forgive you.”

He almost smiles. “You aren’t supposed to lie, Xichen-ge.”

“I’m not,” Xichen says. 

Huaisang feels his face flush, feels the sudden prickling of tears. Of course he’s wanted to hear this, has hoped that Xichen would accept his apology for the broken seclusion, but this … he can tell that Xichen means more, means forgiveness for it all, and that is something too impossible to accept. 

“You can’t mean that,” Huaisang says. 

“I do.”

“But-”

“There’s no changing the things that we’ve done,” Xichen says. “Or the things that we should have done. They’ll be with us forever and perhaps that is how it should be.” He smiles, even after such a terrifying pronouncement. “I’m not saying it won’t be hard, Huaisang, but we can move forward together. And not just us - Wei Wuxian and Wangji, Jiang Cheng … you’re not alone anymore. Do you understand?”

Huaisang draws a shaky breath, but Xichen has gotten into the bad, un-Lanish habit of interrupting him. “Trust me, Huaisang. I promise you. All I ask is that when you feel the need to come back to this place that you won’t come back here alone.”

So many years of lies has made it hard for Huaisang to trust anyone, but if he has to choose one person to trust it is Xichen. After so many years pretending, so many years of treachery and restraint, Huaisang can’t deny that he wants this comfort, even if he’s sure he isn’t worthy of it. “I promise.”

And then because it is here in this place of endings and promised beginnings, and because he _has_ felt alone for such a long time, Huaisang feels something in his heart release. 

“Xichen-ge,” Huaisang says, his voice cracking. “I really miss Da-ge.”

And then Xichen holds him while Huaisang finally cries.

****

Later, as they are walking home, Huaisang asks Xichen how he knew where to find Xinglu Ridge. Xichen’s ears don’t burn red like his brother’s, but his whole posture screams embarrassment. 

“You’re not the only one with spies,” he admits.

Huaisang is delighted. “A _Lan_ sect leader with spies, who would have thought such a thing?”

Xichen turns an amused smile on him. “A Nie sect leader with too many disciples who care about his well being, who could have known?”

Huaisang sulks for awhile, vowing to hunt down every last traitor in his sect and then hand out punishments that would have made Mingjue proud. “But how did you know to look?” he asks finally. 

“Ah,” Xichen says, more soberly. “It was a suggestion from someone who probably knows best what you’re going through.” 

Huaisang is puzzled for a moment before he remembers he’s not the first person who considered falling off a cliff as a means to an end. “That guy,” he huffs.

“He thought visiting Gusu and, well, me, might help.” Xichen looks apologetic, “I did see that once I had calmed down.”

“Wait,” Huaisang sputters, “you have all been … concerned about me since _then_?”

“You’re a very bad liar, after all,” Xichen says. He lets Huaisang stew on this - and honestly Huaisang can’t tell if he feels happiness that everyone seems to care or annoyance that he is really that transparent - before adding that at least Wei Wuxian hadn’t anticipated Huaisang’s campaign for his love life. “The bed shortage was a nice touch.”

Huaisang grins. “They’ve been insufferable, haven’t they?”

Lan Xichen closes his eyes in pain. “You have no idea. It is a beautiful thing to gaze adoringly into each other’s eyes, but also a bit awkward for the rest of us.”

“Poor, Xichen-ge!”

“Wei Wuxian has started giving the bunnies ridiculous names such as ‘Lightness in the Dark’ and ‘Love Found At Last’ and Wangji just smiles.”

“Oh no!”

“Uncle has forbidden anymore duets.”

When Huaisang’s laughter has died down, Lan Xichen gives him a fond look and says, “Come back with me for a visit. I need the strength.”

And Huaisang, who has a long future ahead of making amends but nothing planned for the immediate future, can’t see any reason not to. “Sure,” Huaisang agrees with a smile. “Why not?”


End file.
